The Night of Storms (Fanfiction)
Artemis the FowlWing's. Do not edit without my express permission. I just have a couple things to say; it's awful. I know. I have only the prologue here, but it's awful too. There's so much that I've changed since I wrote this. It will become better, I promise. I am getting there on the characters (Vulture the SandWing/SkyWing hybrid Crystal the RainWing/IceWing Hybrid (ugh don't click on Crystal plz) Starfish the NightWing/SeaWing hybrid); I am getting there on the plot; but it will take quite a bit of time. I've gotten better since I last tried on storywriting. Also, this story will eventually feature non-canon rules for the Wings of Fire universe. Yes, it is a fanon story, but when I first wrote it I tried my hardest to keep at least most of it as close to canonly-correct as possible; however, with the latest arguments against animus magic and about all of its flaws I have decided to create fanon rules for it as to keep my story from being cliched, boring, or just plain horrible. These rules will be introduced as the story continues. Prologue “I’m so close…” he whispered. “Six students stolen and enchanted, another hundred dragonets brainwashed and given powers, a few threats taken care of… all I need is a couple more, and I will be ready to steal this world from those unfit to rule it…” “Good…” a charming voice hissed by next to him, invisible. The pale dragon glanced at his shoulder, not surprised that he couldn’t see where it was coming from. He never expected to see it anyway; ever since it had first visited him, it had always remained unseen. “And when you are ready, you will give me your power - excuse me, permission to use my own power- and I will use it to give you what you deserve.” “Yes,” he agreed, too grateful for the help the voice had given to him in the past to be suspicious. “And will you show me who you are at that point?” The voice seemed annoyed at this question. “So concerned over matters that should be let alone… Yes, if it really bothers you that much.” The answer pleased the dragon. “Thank you. It’s hard to talk to someone when you don’t know if they’re actually there or listening.” “Heh… I have the same feeling….” the voice laughed, before cutting itself short. “Forgive me, I did not mean to say that. Now, when will you get the rest of the dragonets? Time grows short. Our opposition is growing stronger by the minute.” “Soon, soon,” the dragon answered calmly, seething inside that the voice would dare to claim him simple and empty when he was so important to their plan, but knowing it was death to say his thoughts. A new thought occurred to him, slashing through his angry ones, and a slight smile spread across his face without him noticing. “Since I don’t know what you are or what you look like, what if I accidentally steal or brainwash you?” The voice was angry this time, as if it had read his thoughts. Perhaps it had, the dragon shivered, suddenly remembering other, similar instances that had ultimately ended in torture and grief. “I have safeguards. You won’t be able to find me. Even if you did, I would seem so ordinary that you would think nothing of me. You would never be able to control me.” The sentence ended in a threatening growl, and the dragon pictured a muscular dragon lashing its tail with talons outstretched and ready to leap at him and tear him apart. “Oh… forgive me, master…” the dragon said, afraid and wishing to undo the tension that had suddenly grown in the small, dark room. The voice relaxed slightly. “It’s fine. For an idiot, you’re interesting, and I’m not going to sour our relationship this late in the game. Even if you’ve thought things you shouldn’t have and have forgotten things I needed you to remember. Will it happen again?” “No. Of course not,” the dragon replied, relieved that nothing had happened to him, that the voice hadn’t leapt at him and destroyed him. There is a time to be angry, and a time to be agreeable, he admonished himself, trying to get rid of any torture-worthy thoughts. “Good. Get me those dragonets, or you will suffer.” The voice left abruptly, and the dragon immediately felt lighter, happier, less stressed without it. “‘Charming voices, charming words, your skeleton picked apart by birds,’” he whispered, remembering a rhyme his father used to tell him. “That’s what the voice is doing to me… but it will all be worth it…” Chapter One: Forgotten Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Fanon) Category:Content (Artemis the FowlWing) Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete)